Madison times. (Tallulah, Madison Parish, La.) 1884-1???, 1887-10-17
Miss Minton'S Master.

80. nrettv. with a red-lpped. hazel
.yed, rosy prettiness that admitted of
40 question; her temper was admira-
Ne her intelligence fair. her attain
ments we're more than respectable, her
family was good, and her fortune COM
,or,,ble. though not unwleidy.
Then. too, as daughter, neighbor.
,r;ond and hostess. she was allowed,
.ror bv the most captious. to discharge
,bs whole duty of woman-iatterly
more for after her father was stricken
mi,b n,ralysis Of his right arm he would
,r,,t his business to none but Grace.
wbo having a clear head, and ready
ren uroved herself an efficient substi-
tute and won golden opinions from all
with whom the arrangement brought
her in contact and they were not few
nor simple, for Minton bred pure-blood
horses that went pretty well all over
the south country; in fact, his 6OO-acre
farm with its velvet pastures and
clesn-limbed, glossy herd. had a repu-
t;on almost national, and was quite the
pr;de Of Rowan County, where it lay;
so first and last Miss Minton saw and
knew much more of the great outside
world than fails to the lot of most home
keepinp. provincial maidens.
Maplewood lies in region of softly
swelling hills, well wooded and water
cd by small, clear creeks that run down
10 the near river The country is three
fourths cleared and largely set in grass.
In fact, blue grass grows there quite as
well as in the Blue grass region" A
fair and smiling land, full of roomy.
handsome houses, big barns and tall,
clear fences. with hard. white turn
pixies winding through and through.
One of them ran past the gate of Ma
plewood, cutting off from the main
farm a hundred acres of pasture,
through which a thread of bright wa
ter wound its laughing way, under
shadows of elm, ash and sycamore,
past banks of clear pebbles or green,
fowery turf. Hither in mid-May came
the glossy yearlings from the home
pastuers. there 10 develop strength
and speed, and stay, on fair water and
lush grass, throughout the bright, hot
Summer; and hither Grace Minton, rid
ing in her fathers stead, slowly, with
rein well in hand, and bright. close
looking eyes, found an animal that, af-
ter his fashion, showed fairly beside
her thoroughbreds.
A tall, young man, 1.-the and well
made, with wet golden har and look
Of patient hunger in his well-cut face.
sat bareheaded on a gray rock in the
full sun blaze, wet shirt SO clinging
to chest, arms ond shoulders as to show
the physique of an athlete. On the
grass back of him lay wide, soft hat,
= coat well cut and of good material,
but frayed and worn. and a small Rus
sia-leather bag. open and empty, save
for few papers peeping from the in
ner pocket. A tramp, evidently, whose
nomadic life had not obliterated the in
stincts of cleanliness or decencv, as he
had deemed it safe in this solitude to
wash himself and his clothes, and who
at the sight of the young lady spraug
up hastily, and flushing through all his
sun-tan flung his coat about him and
looked with dumb apology into her
face.
Grace's first impulse was to- ride
away in silence, as though unnoting.
but somehow the look of those deep
blue ewes arrested and held her,
and pulling up sharply, she said, with
an unmistakeable proprietorial accent:
"How came you here ?"
The man bent his bare head and an
swered literally:
Through the gate on the turnpike.
1t was unlocked. and it looked so cool
and pleasant down here. and l was so
tired and dusty. l was tempted into
respassing. Pardon it, please; and let
me stay until the sun gets past noon,
and l will go away without harming
anything. The road is blistering now."
Il know it." sad Miss Minton, curt
", 'but that is no reason for you to
stay here hungry. Come on with me
to the house aud rest there. Have you
had breakfast?
He shook his head with faint smile,
and she continued severely:
THAT is very wrong. You should
have had it three hours ago. You in
suit the country you are passing through
when you thus slight our hospitality.
He looked up straight into her face
and answered.:
"Dig | cannot for no man will hire
me; and TO beg 1 am ashamed. Can
you give me work ?'
What can you do P''
well.n
Can you handle horses ?'
"A little" with the shadow of a
smile behind his long, fair moustache.
Gan you ride colts?"
again"
,sery well, will get my father to
take you for week on trial; if YOU suit
ne VIII take you all Summer, though
We nave never hired a white hand
what shall have to doa"
hny nythlng you are told to; chiefly
sA horses to the saddle. Uucle Ned.
@ M. eead- groom. is too rheumatic for it
ish y ,opsing. and his boys are too imp
h;ns hin - os trusted. You will work under
bread Ss,n'ainlS il I can thereby earn my
or vii, 'uAl there is no doubt. Ny faith
comn ~ VIII pay you well, if only YOU are